


On me

by kirargent



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, F/F, Fluff, Ice Cream Parlors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-08
Updated: 2014-11-08
Packaged: 2018-02-24 15:35:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2586710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kirargent/pseuds/kirargent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The girl raised a perfect eyebrow. "Do you always perform with a mop after closing?" she asked, lips forming a tight smile.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On me

**Author's Note:**

> [inspo](http://jodyquills.tumblr.com/post/101979451249/sixteen-sweet-ice-cream-shop-aus): you came in after closing and I may have been dancing with a mop and singing, will a free cone ensure your silence au

Whatever claims Lydia may make, Kira will forever maintain that she cannot be held accountable for her actions in the moment they first met.

Journey was playing, okay? Specifically,  _Don't Stop Believin'_  was playing—and honestly, Kira will fight anyone who thinks that a person could plausibly practice self control when they've had a few more ice cream cones than their employee discount really covers, they're alone in the shop with a mop, and  _Don't Stop Believin'_  comes on the radio. Like, she'll honest-to-god fight them. With a sword, or something.

Totally not her fault, okay? Kira dares anyone to say they would've acted differently in her place.

The shop was closed, she was maybe a little giddy on her favorite mint-chip gelato, and she was wearing her cute black mini skirt that day. She remembers because it swished up around her thighs when she spun around with the mop.

Belting out the words at the top of her lungs, Kira danced around the little shop to the best of her admittedly clumsy ability. The room spun before her eyes: the ice cream cases, the coffee maker, the big windowed walls all blurred into streaks of tasteful pastel decoration scheme.

Lydia likes to tell people Kira was standing on a chair, holding the mop like a microphone when she walked in, but Kira will deny that to the day she dies.

 

(Even though she was, she totally was. She remembers closing her eyes and bending her knees and tipping her head back and  _singing_ , remembers feeling like the music was in her veins and in her lungs, remembers that she was horribly out of tune but didn't care.)

 

Turns out, pretending you're famous and on stage with thousands of cheering fans is a very effective way to miss the tinkling of the bells on the door handle, the sharp clicks of high heels crossing the black and white checkered tile floor. But there is no way known to humankind to miss Lydia Martin's crisp, pursed-lipped, "Excuse me."

Kira's voice died in her throat; her eyes snapped open. At the sight of the girl in front of her, a thought went through her head:  _Whoa_. Then another:  _Shit_.

"Um," she said. She laughed nervously. "Um, hi." She didn't jump down from the chair, because she was definitely never standing on a chair in the first place. The girl was shorter than her, despite the tall heels that looked stunning on her and would be deathtraps on Kira. Her hair was long, and pale strawberry blond; her lips were colored with peach lipstick, and smiling in a way that was curious, if a little weirded-out.

This was the girl—although really, Kira's never thought  _girl_  encompassed enough to be an accurate descriptor for Lydia—this was the girl who'd just walked in on Kira dancing and singing to  _Don't Stop Believin'_ , and Kira's life was just the worst. Like, seriously, is the universe capable of hatred? Kira was pretty sure the universe hated her.

The girl pressed her pretty pink lips together and cocked her head to the side. Her dress was soft blue and flowery. She held her purse out to the side, on a delicately bent arm. She was the picture of perfect femininity, and Kira'd never had such a determined swarm of butterflies thwacking around inside her ribcage, and was she staring? Oh god, she was staring.

"Um!" she said again. There was a good chance that  _um_  was Kira's catchphrase. "We're—we're closed, actually." She smiled, apologetic and strained.

The girl raised a perfect eyebrow. "Do you always perform with a mop after closing?" she asked, lips forming a tight smile. 

Kira's insides squirmed. "Um. Not always? Um, just when it's Journey—no, I mean, I don't do this whenever Journey's on the radio, I mean—I don't dance when I don't know the song—I mean. Um. No?" Kira gave her most self-deprecating grin. The girl's eyebrows were still raised. Kira felt her eyes go wide. "Um, you're not gonna... tell anyone about this, right? I mean, I just moved here, and I want to keep this job—not to mention I'd like to, you know—" oh sweet christ, she was rambling,  _stop, Kira_  "—actually have friends, and stuff, so it'd be cool if you, you know, didn't, um. Um." Kira managed to stop talking. The girl was staring at her, a little wide-eyed.

Because Kira was Kira, she opened her mouth again. "You know what?" she said, "What if I pretend we're open, get you some ice cream—you don't even have to pay for it, okay, you can have it on me—I mean, not like  _that—_ " Kira's face felt warm "—I mean—um—" she shook her head, taking a breath. "And then we both act like this never happened?" 

The girl tilted her head, pouting thoughtfully.

Kira forced what she hoped was a winning smile.

Finally, the girl said, "All right," and flashed a smile that made Kira's chest squeeze tight around her heart.

"Oh, great," Kira breathed. She listened carefully to the  _click, click_  of the girl's heels as she followed Kira to the ice cream cases.

"What can I get for you today?" Kira asked brightly, placing her hands flat-palmed on the counter. Her eyes tracked the girl's slow, thoughtful steps along the cases.

Her gaze snapped back up to Kira, sudden and sharp with a bemused smile. Everything was sharp and precise about this girl; soft, flowery edges, but sharp, intelligent eyes. She hummed lightly. "You know, I can't decide," she said, head tilted to the side. Her voice was high and delicate, but with a grainy overtone that made Kira's spine tingle. "What's your favorite flavor?" she asked.

"Mint-chip," Kira said, no hesitation. She smiled, eyes wide, hoping her nervousness wasn't too visible.

"Hm!" the girl said, a high, short noise. Her eyes skimmed the display line again, then flicked back to Kira. Her smiles came quickly, quirking her cheeks with small dimples. "I'll take two small mint-chip cones, then."

To this day, Kira thinks it a miracle that she scooped two ice cream cones and handed them over without spilling them on the girl's dress or dropping them on the floor and slipping on them or something.

She remembers smiling. "Here you go," she said.

She remembers that Lydia smiled, too, and handed back one of the cones.

"For you," she chirped, smile radiant, and swirled out of the shop with her ice cream cone in one hand and quite possibly Kira's heart in the other.

 

(Kira will deny that part, too. She will not budge on the matter. She will tell everyone she ever meets that she didn't start to fall for Lydia until weeks later, after Lydia had come back twelve times, developed a habit of folding herself into a booth and talking with Kira when the shop wasn't too crowded, and finally asked her out. She will tell people she didn't feel anything beyond initial aesthetic attraction to a pretty girl until well after they'd gotten to know each other. She was not immediately enamored with Lydia's authoritative confidence or sharp, knowing smile.)

 

(But maybe that's about as true as her claims that she wasn't dancing on the chair.)

**Author's Note:**

> [on tumblr](http://braedenargent.tumblr.com/post/102127354276/insp-you-came-in-after-closing-and-i-may-have)


End file.
